


The Hat

by bookhobbit



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-07 23:45:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookhobbit/pseuds/bookhobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She'd always wanted to be a wizard. Now with fanart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hat

**Author's Note:**

> This one's actually recent; yesterday rowrowrohirrim on tumblr made this great post about Lady!Rincewind and I was like CAN I FIC THAT and she was like sure! so I did today. If you want to see the post, it's here: http://rowrowrohirrim.tumblr.com/post/72487787193/  
> Also if you enjoyed the concept, agentquinn also on tumblr has a couple of pieces of art and a lovely fic you should totally check out. I spent the afternoon squeeing over them, ahaha.
> 
> aaand this has a tiny bit of Ponderwind in it because it was in the post and also because rowrowrohirrim is one of my coconspirators and it's apparently my fault she ships Ponderwind so I couldn't not include it.  
> However, you can read it as friendship if you prefer!
> 
> ETA: so I pixeled her and thought it might be an appropriate addition to the fic.

Rincewind stood outside the huge gates of Unseen University, staring resentfully.  
She’d never asked to be a witch. It had just sort of happened. Wizard, that’s what she really wanted, that’s what she’d _always_ wanted.  
But, well, what else but witch was there for her to be? Wizards couldn’t be women, that was certainly a well-established fact. And she wasn’t qualified for anything else. Not that she was the most qualified witch, either, but the fact that she was intensely pragmatic and naturally sensible did help to compensate for that.  
She’d heard them talking about it, when she was little.  
"Of course she’s got to be a witch. I’ve nothing else to send her off to. She’s got no interest in any profession, and she’ll never be a wife."  
"But the girl has no magical talent."  
"And what does that matter, for real witching?"  
It had stuck with her, that conversation. Oh, not the thing about marriage. Well, a little bit - she had no plans to get married and knew herself to be an entirely unsuitable person, but there was a difference between knowing that about yourself and hearing someone else say it. But no magical talent. That hurt because it was true and she didn’t want it to be. When she’d been very small she’d had dreams about being a wizard anyway, girl or no girl, through sheer force of magic. She had told herself she’d sweep in and amaze them all with her abilities.  
Ha. She was going to sweep in there, all right. And dust and mop and maybe do laundry, too.  
Rincewind stormed the gates of the university, not exactly as she’d dreamed of doing in childhood. But at least she was inside.

-

As it turned out, being hired as a maid at UU was not nearly as difficult as she’d expected. Somehow, Rincewind had thought there would be screening procedures. How well can you clean up chalk dust, how much do you know about the ancient and venerable traditions of this university, are you prepared to deal with screaming fiends of the night coming up through the floor, that sort of thing. But it was nothing like that at all. It wasn’t even a wizard who spoke to her.  
"Well, well, got your own broom, have you?"  
"Yes, ma’am."  
"Prepared to work for wizards, eh?"  
"Oh, yes. I’ve wanted to since I was five and moved here - you see -"  
"Can you mop?"  
"Yes, I - "  
"That all appears to be in order. Very well, you are hired. Start tomorrow, bring your broom and a clean apron, we’ll have you cleaning up the Library."  
"Thank you." Rincewind stood up and shook the housekeeper’s hand. "I appreciate the opportunity to - "  
"Yes, thank you, you’re dismissed."  
Rincewind wandered back home, feeling vaguely and inexplicably disappointed.

-

"Ook."  
Not what she’d been expecting, but she didn’t bat an eyelash. In her travels as a witch, she had seen far stranger things than orangutans in libraries. Besides, he was quite easy to understand, which was more than she could say for some humans.  
"Ah. You must be the Librarian. Sorry, sir, I’ve just got to dust."  
"Ook?"  
"Of course I can."  
"Ook ook."  
"Well, I’m sorry, but I do have my orders."  
"Eeek."  
"I can see you feel very strongly about this. Perhaps we can reach a compromise."  
"Oook?"  
"Sorry? Your assistant?"  
"Oook."  
"You’re offering me a job?"  
"Ook."  
"True. Then I’d be under your orders. That’s a bit far to go to keep someone from dusting your bookshelves, though."  
"Eek."  
"I see."  
And that was how she’d started working in the Library.  
It was a step closer, anyway.

-

"Ah, Miss Rincewind."  
Rincewind glared at the Archchancellor. She’d bet money he hadn’t even known her name before this. Probably learned it expressly to patronize her.  
"Yes, sir," she said, rather guardedly because this was the kind of thing that could get a person in trouble.  
"You’re the Librarian’s assistant, is that right?"  
"Yessir."  
"Indeed. Indeed. Well. They tell me you’re a witch. Particularly good at languages. Speak Agatean, the Librarian says."  
"Yessir." Gods, what a nightmare that’d been. One horrible adventure after another. Guiding a tourist around the Disc was no job for a witch, no matter what the pay, which she hadn’t even got. Then again, librarian’s assistant was probably no job for a witch, either. So absorbed was she in memories of Twoflower and the chaos that had accompanied him like a favorite sweater that she almost missed the next bit:  
" - need to send a wizard to the Counterweight Continent."  
"Sorry?" she said, snapping back to reality.  
"A missive did not come asking for a Great Wizard."  
"Didn’t it?"  
"All a bit complicated. Diplomacy." Ridcully waved a hand. "The point is that we can’t find a wizard who speaks Agatean."  
"Are you telling me there isn’t one in this entire University? Sir?" Rincewind demanded, because she had a horrible feeling she knew where he was going with this.  
"Oh, probably, probably, but we can’t find him, doncherknow. Bit of a maze in here. No time to go hunting. Got to have someone out by tea-time."  
"I see," said Rincewind glumly. "So what was it you were thinking of doing?"  
"We thought perhaps they’d settle for a witch."  
And after that it was all over. She couldn’t get out of it, not really. Rincewind considered that she was destined to have adventures, and this was just another one in a long series. To the Counterweight Continent she went.

-

It was a long time before she got back. But when she did, when she’d settle in, when she’d found her room was just as they’d left it and the Librarian still needed her help -  
”- can’t let it get out, it’d be an HR nightmare.”  
"A what what?"  
"People would talk."  
"Ah. Indeed. We don’t want people talkin’. Well, all right, I suppose "  
The significance of the dinnertime conversation missed her until she was called into a faculty meeting one day shortly after she’d returned.  
"Well," said Ridcully, "Well now. I see you’re settling in nicely."  
"Yessir." Rincewind kept her face immobile. Oh gods, not another adventure. She’d just finished one that had cost her months and months of her life. A little peace for a change, that’s all she wanted.  
"We, er….some reward in order, behaved valiantly, above and beyond the something of duty."  
"Sorry? Who did?"  
"You did."  
"What?"  
"We thought perhaps some little reward would be in order," Ridcully repeated. "You know. Risked life and limb on a quest of importance for the greater good of wizardry."  
Rincewind stared at him.  
She wanted to say, no I didn’t. I just did witch things. I showed up and did what seemed to need to be done at the time, because that’s what witches do. I didn’t choose it, but I damn well made do. You don’t get a reward for witching. You just get more work.  
But these were wizards, and they didn’t understand. Also, thinking about that conversation she’d overheard, this was probably bribery for silence rather than an actual grateful thanks of the population. And besides…  
"What kind of reward?"  
"Oh, whatever you like. Within reason, of course. We could make you a guest professor. Lecturer In Witchcraft, perhaps."  
Rincewind was silent. She knew what she was about to ask wasn’t going to work but she also knew if she didn’t ask she’d never be able to live with herself. Because this was her chance. Trying to keep her voice steady she asked, very quietly, “Can I be a wizard?”  
Ridcully frowned.  
"Women can’t be wizards," he said. "Well-known rule of wizardry. Basic fundamental thingygumm."  
"Principle," said one of the Senior Wizards. "Basic principle."  
Rincewind nodded. She wasn’t disappointed, really. Especially since she’d known this would happen. Not disappointed at all. Not feeling hollow and detached and illogically bereft, because that wouldn’t be sensible, she’d had no hope -  
"Er," said a voice from the back of the room.  
"Yes, Mr. Stibbons?" said Ridcully without looking round.  
"The fact that women can’t be wizards is, as you say, a fundamental principle of wizardry… "  
"I hear a ‘but’ coming on, Mr. Stibbons. Stop that sniggering, Dean."  
"Well, perhaps she could be a wizzard?"  
"Wizzard?"  
"With two zeds, sir. Important semantic difference."  
"You think so?"  
"Oh yes, sir. The traditional spelling is very important."  
"Well…"  
Rincewind met the eyes of the wizard in the back. It was the weedy-looking one with the messy hair and taped-up glasses; she recognized him. When they’d sent her off to the Agatean Empire he’d told her a lot of stuff about HEX which she hadn’t understood but which she’d gathered was meant to be comforting. Rather nice, as wizards went.  
Currently, he was giving her something that was probably supposed to be a wink. It made him look like he’d got something stuck in his eye, but…  
"If you’re quite sure, Mr. Stibbons," said Ridcully. "Very well then, Miss Rincewind. A wizzard you are. I’ll have the papers drawn up. If we have any. Probably not, but we’ll do a certificate or something making you an honorary graduate. Very traditional." Ridcully waved a hand. "That’s all. Thank you for your service. Oh, yes, if you could keep quiet about this whole business we’d appreciate it very much."  
Rincewind went back to the Library, and smiled perhaps more than she ever had on any single occasion in her life.

-

The smiling happened again a few days later when she found The Hat.  
The Hat came in a box outside her room, taped neatly closed with the legend FOR RINCEWIND THE WIZZARD, B.THAU, HONORARY written on a label attached to the top.  
And when she opened it…  
It was red and pointy and sequined. There were stars. There were magic sigils. There was, in big silver letters that looked hand-embroidered by someone not too familiar with sewing, the word WIZZARD sewn onto the front.  
It was possibly the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life.  
Inside the box was a note she almost missed, longwinded, written and re-written with scribblings-out and messy margins and terrible handwriting that all boiled down to do you like the hat and would you like to go out for coffee sometime.  
Rincewind smiled, put the hat on, and stomped down to the HEM building.  
The rest would come as it may.


End file.
